Critical mass…..

Shit has really started to catch up with me.

My life has been really great lately. I have a great job. I was able to land on my feet in order to secure my own car. I’ve found an apartment to live in. I’m dating. There are people in my life who are always excited to see me. I’m having a lot of great sex. I’m running a marathon in a couple of weeks.

But the reality is that I’m recovering from nearly 4 years of intense financial and verbal abuse. Anything I wanted was “unnecessary.” My bank account was routinely monitored and I would come home at night to face hours of interrogation over a $2 coffee. I could never do anything right. A $35 gym membership for me was out of the budget while $300-plus was spent every month on kung-fu classes, weapons, and books. Any political or ideological views I may have held have been weakened by relentless debate that would end in my concession only to get him out of my face. He made me show receipts whenever I went to the grocery store in order to screen out “unapproved” purchases. There was no area of my life that wasn’t supervised, and subsequently criticized.

I had to sell beloved items in order to buy a plane ticket to leave. My bank account was drained and I moved across the country with one carry-on bag and less than five dollars.

I’m rebuilding very slowly.

I feel like I’ve been under water for the last four years. I’m meeting people and often find myself lost when the conversation turns to recent movies or TV shows. I was on the other side of the country where he was the only one I knew and I had no outlet or resources to meet anyone else. It’s almost as if I’ve been in the woods this whole time, completely removed from society.

I find myself going through a very teenage-like form of rebellion. I have no curfew, I have complete ownership over my paycheck. I don’t have to tell anyone where I’m going or when I’ll be back. A friend extended an invitation to meet in LA next month and it felt really weird to accept without having to consult anybody. I’m going to yoga and pilates classes because I want to go, and not because they give me something to do other than going home. My food choices are my own. I can go to bed when I feel like it.